


You Were Mine

by CrayolaDinosaurs



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Divorce, F/M, M/M, Parents & Children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:24:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrayolaDinosaurs/pseuds/CrayolaDinosaurs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I remember when you were mine...</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Were Mine

Mary remembered signing the papers. She remembered the relieved smile on John’s face when she had. She remembered hugging him and wishing him luck. She didn’t remember why.

_I still can’t let go. I can’t find a reason. You’ve moved on. Or, well, back rather, but I’m still here. Waiting for you to come back. I can forgive you anything. And I can’t handle being alone. Not when I know how perfect your love can be._

 

Mary tossed in her sleep, legs tangled in the sheets. Cold sweat sinking into her bedding as tears soaked into her face. She shouted as she sat up, waking alone in the dark. Cries were ripped from her throat as sobs rack her body.

 

_I can’t really sleep anymore. I almost always wake up crying. Screaming out your name as I’m ripped from dreams filled with a crushing darkness. A hollow loneliness. A never-ending search for you. What right does he have to take you from me? When did you stop being mine?_

 

Mary sat, crying, as she flipped through their wedding album.  Her fingers trailed over the fading smiles. The curling edges of aging photographs a haunting reminder of all she had lost.

 

_You loved me the day we got married. You did, you loved me. There was so much laughter that day. And then there wasn’t. You wouldn’t smile anymore. You grew cold. But you loved me. I don’t know when that stopped. Tell me that this is a mistake. Love doesn’t end. Tell me he’s not real. He can’t be. You’re coming back. You have to be._

 

Mary lay curled in her bed, the tracks of old tears marring her face. She buried her head in the pillows, attempting to block out the hatefully cheery sunlight, groaning as she heard laughter from down the hall. She rolled upright, pulling the sheets tighter around herself. Mary fought the urge to scream as she stood. She stumbled from her room and into the kitchen, sheets still surrounding her body. Fresh tears stained her face as she made a cup of tea.

“Mummy!” Ella skipped into the room. Mary, who had been leaning heavily on the counter, her back to the child, patted her face dry with the heels of her hands and turned to her rambunctious four-year-old, plastering a false smile on her face.

“Heya, poppet,” Mary said, scooping the blonde toddler into her arms and holding her close. Ella pulled back and their eyes met, Mary’s smile faltering a little. “Why don’t you go see if you can get Liam up and moving, yeah?” Ella’s face lit with the prospect of taking care of her little brother. Mary put Ella down and the little girl ran from the room cheering excitedly.

Mary’s knees gave out beneath her and she sunk to the floor, her thoughts stuttering and racing in turn. _John’s eyes. John’s smile. John’s nose. Ella was John, through and through._ Pain blossomed in her chest. What kind of mother was she when the mere sight of her daughter’s face hurt her? Mary pulled her knees to her chest and fought back dry sobs, trying to stay quiet for the sake of the children whose existence was more salt than salve to her wounds.

Laughter echoed from the bathroom and Mary bit back her anguish. She reigned in her emotions and closed off her thoughts. She stood, picking up her sheets from where they’d fallen and folded them slowly, methodically, and placed them on the table. She drank her tea, now frightfully cold, and carried the sheets back to the bedroom, sighing at the sound of splashing and gurgling she heard from the hall.

Mary placed the crisply folded sheets on the edge of the bed and went about preparing for the day. She pulled off the t-shirt and boxers that had once been John’s. John. Her husband. Her ex-husband. She would not cry, not again, not now. She threw the articles angrily at the hamper in the corner, missing by about six feet, and pulled on a well-worn pair of jeans and a slightly less than clean t-shirt of her own. She hastily put her blonde hair, lacking its usual lustre, in a messy knot, heading to the bathroom to wash her face.

She found Liam splashing in an overflowing sink while Ella painted his face with lipstick. She didn’t have to fight to keep the smile off her face; the adorable spectacle barely made an impression. She reached out, turned off the water, and said, “Ella, go get dressed, we have to get moving. Your father is waiting.”

Mary’s jaw clenched as Ella squealed, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” and ran down the hall. She sighed and began wiping the lipstick from Liam’s cheeks as tears streamed down her own.

“Do you have a boo-boo, mummy?”

Mary froze. “Why would you think I have a boo-boo?”

Liam shrugged his shoulders and touched her face. “I cry when I have a boo-boo.”

Mary wiped her face hurriedly. “No, baby, I’m okay.”

“Otay, but if you did have a boo-boo, Daddy could kiss it better. He’s real good at dat.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

Liam slipped off the edge of the cabinet, stumbling but catching himself with chubby hands, before waddling down the hall. Mary slid to the floor and buried her head in her hands.

_What am I supposed to say to them, John? He’s two and she’s four. And they bloody adore you, still think you hung the moon. The same way I did. And I know Sherlock has always been it for you, but what am I supposed to do? How do I tell them you don’t want this anymore? That you’ve changed your mind? Ella. Liam. The children. They’re how I know it was real. And with these constant reminders how can you tell me that you were lying to yourself? How can you tell me that he’s all you ever wanted?_

_And how can I tell them?_


End file.
